Seams
by PuddingJunkie
Summary: "Humiliation at what had transpired and terror from his captivity ravaged his brain. He felt like he was tearing at the seams." Neal is kidnapped and hurt very badly. This starts after his rescue and explains everything throughout the course of the aftermath. No slash! Father/son relationship. Warnings: rape/noncon
1. Prologue

As Neal rose from the dark cloud of oblivious unconsciousness, a rhythmic beeping got steadily louder. He stirred, fitfully tossing his head. This movement was rewarded by sharp pain coursing through his nerves from his head to his toes. Against his will, a small cry of discomfort fell from his chapped lips as he flickered his eyelids open and shut. He felt a hand grab his and pulled away, eliciting more stabs of agony through his back and ribs. Feelings became more real as awareness washed over him and he almost screamed.

"Neal, please, you need to calm down," a voice instructed him, holding his shoulders down.

Neal almost panicked, feeling something like a caged animal, getting ready to be slaughtered by a butcher who falsely comforted him. But then he recognized the voice. The voice brought thoughts of peace and safety. This voice was someone who would protect him.

"P-Pet'r?" Neal rasped, his throat dry and scratchy. he fully opened his eyes and saw the agent standing over him, worry running deep in his eyes. Letting out a huge gasp of relief, Neal grabbed his arms, the ones that had finally let go of his shoulders. Peter winced as Neal's fingernails dug into his skin, but didn't say a word. If this was some sort of consolation to Neal, he wouldn't pull away.

"Here." Peter let go momentarily to help Neal get a sip of water. Neal gratefully let the cool liquid slide down his sore throat, then went straight back to holding onto his friend as if he could disappear any second.

"Where...Where am I?" Neal asked looking around," I don't like hospitals."

Peter smiled and forced down a chuckle. Even after almost dying, Neal would still complain about hospitals. A thought crossed his mind, and the smile quickly melted into a concerned frown, "Do you not remember what happened?"

Neal shook his head. Peter ignored the soft groan that came with doing so, "You've been in the hospital for four days." Peter was hesitant to go into detail, though he knew Neal would ask questions. It would force the cruel memories back to Neal's mind.

"Why?" The bomb dropped.

"A week ago, you were kidnapped. The man, a guy named Phillip Danvers, hurt you pretty bad. It took us three days to track you down. When we found you... Neal, it was the worst thing I've ever seen." Peter said. He could feel a lump in his throat as he felt tears sting his eyes.

Neal gasped softly, retracting his arms, instead wrapping them around his waist. He thought that he'd get glimpses of what happened, that it'd slowly come back to him. He couldn't of been more wrong. It hit him full force, like a train. All of the sudden, he remembered everything that occurred in the dark, damp basement. And he remembered in perfect detail. Every word said to him. Every breath he took. Every wound he got and why.

His heart hurt. It hurt more than each cut, bruise, and injury he got all rolled into one. It was grief that tore into his soul. Humiliation at what had transpired and terror from his captivity ravaged his brain. He felt like he was tearing at the seams.

"Neal? Neal, it's okay. Danvers is going away forever. He can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him," Peter promised, taking to holding Neal's slender fingers in his hand. He didn't want to touch the man toot much, or in certain places, to keep him calm and not frighten him.

Tears dribbled down Neal's pale face from where they were perched on his dark lashes. His lower lip wobbled as he held in whimpers and sobs. He was trying to hold onto that last thread of dignity, to not flat out break in front of the man he looked up to as a father.

"He... Oh, God," Neal sobbed, tremors running down his back and hands shaking almost uncontrollably.

"It's okay. Go ahead and get this off your chest, Neal. You need to do this," Peter encouraged, though he was just as terrified to hear the words he knew Neal was trying to choke out. This could help Neal (and Peter) find resolution with what happened and get past the denial that everything was not okay.

"He..." Neal sucked in a deep breath, "He raped me."

XxX

The rest of Neal's stay in to hospital was relatively uneventful. Mozzie visited over twice a day, almost always accompanied by June. Diana and Jones came and talked to him multiple times. Peter stayed every night, and El was there nearly as much as Peter, coming with tearful eyes, gifts, and comforting kisses on the cheek.

Each night was different, equally awful nightmare filled with screaming, thrashing, and hyperventilating. Every time, Peter was there to whispers soft reassurances to him and hold him in a fatherly until he fell asleep again. For the remainder of the night, Peter would sleep with his head leaning on the bed, hand in hand with Neal to chase the nightmares away. He'd wake up with a godawful crick in his neck, but he never once complained, not even in his head.

The routine lasted for three days until Neal was released.

"You okay?" Peter asked as he wheeled him out to the car. Elizabeth put the bags in the back and pecked Neal's cheek softly before stepping into the passenger side of the vehicle

"Yes, Peter. I've told you I'm fine. I just want to get back o June's already," Neal said, staring down at the folded hands in his lap. He knew how obvious the avoidance of eye contact was, but he also knew that Peter wouldn't comment on it.

"You aren't going back to June's, Neal. Until I deem you one hundred percent, You are staying with me and El," Peter said. it was no suggestion and Neal knew there was no room for arguing. In fact, he felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders upon hearing that he was staying with the Burkes. He was terrified of being left alone at June's. he felt so... vulnerable in the place where he had been kidnapped.

Neal nodded and, with help from Peter, climbed into the back of the car. Three minutes into the drive, Neal's head hit the window as he fell asleep. Peter just looked in the rear view mirror sadly, wondering if his CI would ever be the same.

XxX

A/N: This is just a prologue, and that's why it's short. I have a pretty good idea where this is going, but down the line, a lot of things can change. Things like reviews and PMs are influential to me and I often take those into consideration. I apologize for typos. I'm looking for a beta currently. Reviews are appreciated. first chapter will be coming up soon. I hope to have it posted by Friday, but things may get in the way. Thank you for reading. :)


	2. Chapter 1

_"Goodnight, June. I'll see you at breakfast," Neal kissed June's cheek as he made his way up the stairs. It was getting late, nearly midnight, and Neal needed to go to work earlier the next morning. _

_He was already unbuttoning his shirt as he walked into his room, a yawn escaping him. Shedding the jacket and dress shirt, he stepped into the bathroom. He turned the faucet on and reached for his toothbrush. His eyes widened as a arm wrapped around his neck, almost cutting off his air. A sweet smelling rag covered his mouth and nose and he had no choice but to inhale what he knew was chloroform. He fought, kicking and pulling, but the man was bigger and far more muscular. _

_He whimpered words to the assailant, his struggling getting weaker and weaker. With one last breath, his eyes rolled back and he went limp in the man's arms. Carefully, Danvers laid Neal down on the floor, his passing hand caressing the blue eyed man's cheek, "Finally, I've got you. We can go home now, Neal. I'm sorry I had to go to these measures. I...I just had to be sure you'd come, baby," Danvers whispered softly to the unconscious body, a nervous smile twitching on his lips._

_He hoisted Neal up and flung him over his shoulder, his hand on the small of his back keeping him in place. He sneaked out of the house and put Neal in the back of the car. He put zip ties around his wrists and ankles, then buckled him up. Before getting in the driver's seat, he put his lips to Neal's, smiling as he withdrew from the conman._

_"I love you, Neal."_

XxX

Neal jolted awake with a choked gasp. Still sleep muddled and vividly remembering his nightmare, he fought with the seat belt. His breathing came out in harsh labored pants. He was vaguely aware of tears spilling down his face as two gentle hands reached to calm him. They were feminine, nothing like the big, calloused hands of Danvers, and that brought Neal back to reality halfway.

"Please, please don't," he said softly, instantly stilling, though shying away from the manicured hands.

"Neal, it's okay, honey. Open your eyes. It's just me. It's just Elizabeth," she said, "You know I won't hurt you."

Neal blinked open his eyes, unsticking his wet lashes from his equally moist skin. the first thing he saw was Elizabeth, looking at him with concern and tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Peter looked at through the rear view mirror as he tried to find an opening in the New York traffic to pull over. Neal felt bad for disrupting everything.

"I-I'm sorry, guys. I... just had a nightmare...or rather, a memory," Neal explained. He wanted to talk about it, to get it off his chest. Yet, at the same time, he didn't want the Burkes to know what happened. He felt so dirty and he didn't want them to think ill of him for it. He felt so confused and hurt and he just wanted everything to back to normal.

Peter finally parked the car by the sidewalk and turned around in his seat to fully see Neal, "You want to share, buddy?"

Neal looked at the couple with hesitant blue eyes. He could feel his hands shake from lingering terror and smashed them between his thighs to stop them from moving. He debated telling them, but finally decided to only let them know a little, "I dreamt of the night he took me. He... attacked me from behind. Forced chloroform on me. He tied me up and put me in his car. He... he said we were going home." Neal purposely kept out certain details. Even though he was unconscious, he still sort of remembered the words said to him, the sickly gentle touches, and the rough kiss. All of it hurt and made him feel unbelievably violated. It stabbed his very soul.

Neal gulped, forcing himself to take deep breaths and stay calm. He counted to ten in his head and finally, his hands ceased their shaking. El, grabbed on hand as he released them from their prison between his legs. She squeezed it tightly, in hopes of comforting him, "You're okay. You're safe now, Neal."

He just nodded, "Can we just go now? I'm pretty hungry," He intentionally diverted attention elsewhere. As he expected, Peter caught it, but only looked at him with worried, suspicious eyes and got back on the road. El bought it and talked about the different foods she could cook up for him and truly smiling, Neal responded about how much he'd love that.

XxX

Neal, Peter, and El sat at the table, three plates filled with grilled chicken, sweet corn, and fresh salad with baby tomatoes. None of them particularly devoured the food, and Neal was more of just playing with it than eating it. El and Peter shared a conversation through glances as they watched Neal pick at the food on his plate. His eyes were dull as he delved deeper and deeper into pensive thinking.

"We've been thinking, Neal. El's friend from high school is a therapist. Maybe, if you don't feel comfortable talking to us, you can have some sessions with her," Peter suggested, breaking the silence.

Neal looked up from the tomato his fork had been chasing around the chicken. He saw the ever present worry that Peter and El had shown since the first day he woke up. Nibbling on his bottom lip, he thought it over. Did he really want to talk to a stranger about how he was raped and beaten by a deranged stalker for three days? But was it worse than telling all of that to the two people he saw his makeshift parents?

"Whatever you think is okay," Neal replied, staring down at his food again.

Peter was shocked, to say in the least. He expected some definite change in Neal. No one came out of a situation like that unscathed, mentally, emotionally or physically. However, this reaction was about as opposite of Neal as possible. The Neal he knew would give Peter a look that said "Are you an idiot?" and deny the request as if it were a pop up on a computer telling him he won a free IPad. He would not become submissive and do whatever Peter said, like some lackey with no opinion for himself.

He gazed over to El, who looked equally surprised. She gave a tiny nod, telling him to say something else.

"Neal, you don't have to if you don't want to. El and I just want what's best for you. We're not forcing you to do anything," Peter tried to reassure him, "You have a choice."

the conman just looked at him and smile. It was fake, not even believably fake, like Peter knew the suave man could pull off. It was a hurt, forced smile that nearly broke Peter's heart, "I know, Peter. If you don't mind, I'm pretty tired. The meal was lovely, Elizabeth. Goodnight," Neal set his still full plate by the sink and retreated up the stairs before either Burke could reply.

As soon as Peter knew he was out of earshot, he turned to El, "I'm really worried."

"I know," She replied, "He seems so fragile. I can tell he's trying to be strong, but... He's acting so strange."

"Things will get better. I think Neal needs time, space, and a listening ear. We need to be here for him, but not smother him," Peter said, glancing quickly at the stairs.

"I know, I just... I"m scared for Neal," El admitted.

Peter got up and put his half full plate by Neal's. He stood by El's chair and kissed her cheek lovingly, "It's okay, honey. Neal's going to be okay."

XxX

A/N: So how is it so far? Good? Bad? Any suggestions? Anything you'd like to see happen in the story? Feedback is greatly appreciated! I loved all of the reviews from the last chapter! I wasn't expecting such a turn out! Thank you all for reading! Sorry for any Typos! I know I said Friday, so that is my next deadline. I'll probably be able to get one up tomorrow, but if now, I'll try to update the next day. I'm on spring break, so by the time school starts back up, my updates may come later. Thanks again!


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated recently. Some stuff came up and it lasted a lot longer than I expected it would. Really. I'm sorry.

In response to this review from anon:

"nice story, im not a fan of neal whump including rape but i like the father/son element so yeah...aside that, well written :)  
however i do want to point out...doesnt it seem out of character for neal to suddenly tell them in the car what happened? minimum or not it doesnt sound like something hed do even if hes been hurt...the distracted, disturbed state though would be too natural in anyone after such an experience so it works.  
also...after rescuing neal from such a place, in an indescribable condition, wouldnt it have been a medical requirement to check if hed been raped? i think oral/anal penetration tests are the norm in such circumstances...in which case peter would have known already.  
just some suggestions."

First of all, Neal is incredibly hurt, and really confused. He partially wants someone to understand, and then also, he doesn't want anyone to know exactly what happened, out of shame and embarrassment. He needed a cathartic release of emotions, to talk about it. Secondly, yes Peter and El know Neal was raped, and he knows they know. When I said that, I meant he doesn't want them to know in detail. How often, how pain, how humiliating it was for him, that he sobbed and begged. He wants them to think he is still the smooth Neal Caffrey. Does this help?

Anyway, back to the story.

xXx

It was ten thirty when Neal woke from his nightmare. He didn't scream or do anything to attract attention to himself. He learned not to do that in the three days he was in the basement. Danvers didn't like it when he screamed. He got punished for screaming. Neal had learned very, very quickly that silence was important. Don't make a sound, not a whimper. Don't resist and don't deny anything he says. That's what Neal did to survive.

So Neal sat just in the bed, head bowed as he struggled to hold in tears. His chest rose and fell distinctly as he panted, sweat making his damp hair stick to his equally damp forehead. He was afraid to turn on the lamp, that if he could see, he would find himself back in the chains, and not in Peter's house. But at the same time, he was terrified of what lurked in the pitch black darkness. Demons his in the shadowy corners, just waiting to strike.

It was two o'clock in the morning before he decided to do anything besides sit in the suffocating darkness. Neal got out of bed and quickly ran into the hallway, as if hands with sharp, black claws would grab his ankles and drag him into the dark abyss that was under the bed. Or worse, drag him back to the hell he had narrowly escaped. Light showered over him as he stepped into the hallway and he let out a breath he didn't know he had be holding in pure relief.

Neal was comfortable in the Burke household, always had been. there was just something about the place that screamed home. The second he had stepped in there the previous day, it was like he could finally feel safe. Well, safer than before. So, nothing felt wrong with going into the kitchen to get a late night drink.

However, it did feel very awkward when he found Peter sitting there, sipping milk from a mug. He almost looked as if he were waiting, but Neal shook the thought and carefully approached the agent. Peter smiled at his sadly and Neal bit his lip gently, eyes shifting downwards. Peter almost choked. Neal did not shy away; he always responded with something bigger and better, like a charming grin or mischievous smirk.

"Hey, Neal," Peter greeted, "Nightmare?"

"Yeah. What about you?" Neal asked as he poured some milk in a similar mug. He hesitantly drank it, already feeling more at ease. Maybe it was the milk, maybe it was Peter, but either way, he wanted to stay like this.

"Trouble sleeping," Peter answered. There was a long pause, "I'm worried sick about you."

Neal felt a pang in his chest. The only one who had ever given a damn about him until Peter was Mozzie. He wasn't used to being cared about, unless it was caring about throwing him in jail. His own father was gone, not there to teach him how to ride a bike, or talk to girls, or to kiss him cuts all better and hug him. There was none of that in his life. Just running.

"I'm fine, Peter," Neal said and forced a very fake smile, setting his milk down.

"No you aren't! I can see, Neal. I can see you're hurting, and I can see your scared. El and I... We just want to help you. You're like a son to me, and I can't stand to see you like this," Peter said, concern and pain shining in his eyes as he set his hand on Neal's slumped shoulders.

"Peter..." Neal said. He could feel a lump growing in his throat as his eyes began to sting. He didn't want to cry. Why did he want to cry so much? All he wanted was to forget about what happened. He prayed everything could just go to normal. That they'd get a mortgage fraud case and he would complain and whine until Peter threatened to send him back to jail. Neal wished they could joke around and come up with plans that are probably illegal and then risk their lives. Because that was normal. Neal and Peter sitting at Peter's counter, drinking milk, and Neal close to tears was not normal at all.

Neal's eyes filled with moisture and grew hot and Neal knew there wasn't much time until the dam burst, so he stared down at the counter. His breath hitched and he clenched his hands into fists, "Goddamn it!" The curse was weak and spoken in hopelessness, not anger. A tear dripped down and splashed next to his mug.

"Neal?" Peter stepped closer, carefully and slowly, as if he were approaching a wild, skittish animal.

"God...damn it." Neal repeated, this time his voice cracking. Two more tears forced their way out.

"Neal, buddy, it's okay," Peter said, and pulled him into a hug, "I've got you. No one can hurt you."

It burst. For the first time since he was rescued, Neal let all of the sorrow escape him at once. Neal sobbed brokenly in Peter's shoulder, clinging onto him for dear life. His breath was quick and shallow as he breathed between full, heart wrenching wails. He poured his soul into Peter's shoulder. Occasionally, he'd mutter something about pain, or being scared, or incoherent words that he mumbled softly.

Peter held him, rubbing his back in gentle, slow circles. It was an attempt to calm him down, but Neal just continued to cry. Peter's shirt was growing rather wet, but he ignore it and spoke in whispered reassurances, that Neal was safe, that he was okay, and that Danvers could not hurt him.

"Shh, it's alright, Neal. You need to calm down, buddy. You're going to make yourself sick." Peter instructed tendering, handling Neal with the best kid gloves he could manage. Neal nodded and gulped. He forced even breathing and eventually was able to pull away from Peter. He wiped his face furiously, ashamed of the tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Peter asked, forcing the milk into Neal's hand.

Neal took a sip and shook his head. His eyes were red and irritated and his head was pounding. He felt tired, but was too scared to go back to sleep. instead, he cleared his throat and said, "Could... Could we just stay here for a while?"

"Absolutely."

They sat down and mostly drank in silence. Peter attempted a few rounds of small talk about weather or sports or even art. Neal would respond and then stay silent. It was like that for an hour before Neal's head fell to the counter as he succumbed to sleep. Peter half carried, half dragged him to the couch and pulled a blanket over his form.

He took a long moment to study Neal. He looked so young when he was asleep. His mouth was parted with just a sliver as his breath came out in hot puffs. He naturally curled up into a sloppy fetal position, his hands laying next to his face and his knees bent. The only thing that seemed wrong were the dried tear tracks on his otherwise flawless face.

Peter sat in the chair and soon enough, he dozed off as well.

xXx

A/N: I know this is short, like really short, but I have a very bad case of writers block and that's partially why I haven't updated in a long while. I'll try to update soon with a longer chapter, but I have band on Monday and Tuesday afternoon, as well as a Trumpet lesson on Wednesday. So, I'll try. I have a chapter in mind, but I'm up for suggestions. In fact, I'd rather appreciate some suggestions. Again, I apologize for the length. The next one will be longer. thanks for putting up with me.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: There might be a few little AU's in Neal's past. I'll try to stick to the facts, but I might stick in a few of my own headcanons.

XxX

"Agent Burke, I think Neal and I would both appreciate it if you waited out here," the therapist, Dr. Vicks, said, using an overly polite tone. She was dressed in a blue button up blouse and a brown pencil skirt, her hair in a tight bun. She was pretty, sure, but for some reason, she felt intimidating to Neal.

"Oh, uh, sure. I'll be right here if you need me, Neal." Peter said, taking his seat in the waiting room.

Dr. Vicks and Neal got comfortable in the room, siting in large armchairs. Neal gripped the armrest tightly, and his knee started shaking. Vicks noticed of course, and scribbled down a note in her book.

"Now, Neal. How about we get to know each other first. What was your childhood like?" Vicks asked.

Neal smiled and attempted to put some semblance of the infamous Neal Caffery on. It worked to a degree. He sat up straighter and forced his knee to be still. His smile didn't really work, and looked more sad than charming.

For a second, Neal was hesitant to talk to the woman. She was a stranger, and she wanted to know his life story, his experience with Danvers. But he'd rather tell a stranger than Peter.

"My father... Was a troubled man. He did bad things. He was a good man, he just..." Neal trailed off.

"He hurt you?" She asked.

"No! I mean, he'd hit me if i was bad, but... It wasn't... Like that." Neal said, getting more nervous as the seconds passed.

"Where did he hit you?"

"He'd... Slap me, but it's no big deal." Neal said.

Vicks wrote something down and looked back up, "Do you want to talk about what happened recently?"

Neal sighed, and stared at his lap. He knew this was coming. He knew he needed it. But he was so scared to bring up these memories.

After a minute, Neal spoke.

"He locked me in the cellar, no clothes, a bit of food and water if i behaved. H-He'd come in a few times a day, and... And hurt me. If I was too loud or fought, he would... Oh god... He'd whip me and..." Neal trailed, his throat closed up with emotion and body trembling.

"Neal, It's okay. Mr. Danvers can't hurt you anymore. You are safe now. I want you to breathe deeply and count to ten." Vicks instructed, speaking clearly and calmly, to help Neal.

Neal nodded and did as he was told. Eventually, he calmed down enough to continue.

"Would you like to say anything else about what happened?" She asked softly, seeing if she could milk out a couple of details.

"He acted as if he-he knew me."

XxX

_"Neal, what's wrong, sweetheart? Why are you crying?" Danvers asked, going to wipe away the tears. He stopped and clenched his fist when Neal flinched away._

_"Leave me alone!" Neal said. His voice was scratchy and rough from screaming. _

_"Baby, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong." Danvers said, his voice sweet._

_"You! You kidnapped me! You ra- hurt me." Neal said back, scowling at the older man._

_"Kidnapped? Neal, we live together. We're in love. I didn't kidnap you. I brought you home," Danvers laughed, ruffling Neal's greasy hair._

_"No! I don't even know you," Neal replied._

_"Oh, honey. You're delirious. We've known each other for years. We met in the thrift store after you got out of jail. Remember?" Danvers said, kissing Neal's cheek, despite how Neal tried to get away._

_"You're the delirious one! Let me go bastard!" Neal shouted with a sob._

_"Neal, I think you need to learn some manners." _

_Danvers pulled a whip of the shelf and unraveled it, "If you're good, I'll reward you with some sex. Now hold still."_

_The whip came down on Neal's back and he held in a scream with a grunt. It kept coming until Neal finally couldn't handle it anymore and blacked out._

XxX

Neal was close to a panic attack. His breathing was quick and shallow, his eyes darting around the room. His vision was slowly turning black and despite how he tried, the breathing technique was not helping at all.

"Neal, you need to calm down. You're safe now. Nothing can hurt you." Dr. Vicks said, softly.

"Peter! I want Peter!" Neal choked out, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

Vicks got up and ran to the door. Seconds later, Peter was kneeling in front of Neal. He was careful not to touch him, but he desperately wanted to take Neal into a hug and console him.

"Neal, it's Peter. I'm here, it's okay. " Peter's hands were up, so Neal could see and he locked his eyes with Neal's. he was trying his best to make Neal as aware as he could.

"Peter... I-I don't..." Neal trailed off with a shaky sigh. Peter slowly touched Neal's arm. He was surprised by the reaction.

Neal fell into Peter's lap, holding onto him tightly, like he'd disappear any second. Peter returned the hug, shushing him as Neal hiccuped into his shoulder. Unconsciously, Peter started a rocking motion as he soothed the ex-con. It was slow and steady and Neal barely noticed in his panic and fear, but he did start to calm down.

By this point, Peter had shifted so that he was sitting on his butt, his back against the couch Neal had previously been sitting on. Neal was awkwardly positioned in Peter's lap so that his legs were twisted to the side, while he faced Peter, his face buried into Peter's collarbone. It looked uncomfortable, but both men felt like they could stay there for hours.

"Don't let him get me, Peter. Please, please, D-don't let him. I'm sorry!" Neal mumbled into Peter's jacket, softly and shakily. Peter only managed to get the general message.

"Shh, it's okay, Neal. You need to calm down. I won't let the bastard within a hundred miles of you, okay?" Peter said, his voice gentle.

Vicks had written a note on her clipboard, and exited, not wanting to intrude on such a delicate moment. So she sat in the waiting room and got on her IPad, knowing Peter would emerge when Neal was ready.

It was ten minutes before Neal was calm enough to pry himself from Peter's comforting embrace. And even then, he refused to budge more than an inch from him.

Perhaps, getting some of it off of his chest, had made it possible for Neal to latch onto someone. Or maybe it was that, Neal, taken over by fear, knew Peter could protect him, and wanted to stay with that security. Either way, it didn't look like Neal was going anywhere.

They walked out of the office together, arms brushing. Peter announced that Neal was going home, and Vicks agreed it was best for him to recuperate instead of trying to continue.

"Neal, go sit. I need to talk to Dr. Vicks." Peter said. It was almost like he was talking to a child.

Neal looked apprehensive and went as far as to grab the fabric of Peter's suit arm. Even only being ten feet from Peter seemed too far away. He needed protection. Danvers could get him.

Peter gave him a small, forced smile, as if to reassure him, and Neal relented, sitting in the hard, plastic chair.

"Doctor, his behavior... It's drastically changed. I mean, is he okay? Before, he would talk about it, or allow us to get too close. Now, h-he won't let go of me." Peter whispered, careful not to let Neal hear.

"Agent Burke... Neal's flashback was very traumatic to him. From what it looked like, it was vivid and intense. He practically relived the experience. Going through the trauma once was enough to change his behavior to what it was previously. Now, the secondary trauma has frightened him. He's terribly scared and I think he wants some form of security." She said.

"Are you saying his flashback scared him into asking for help?" Peter tried to clarify.

"That's a simple way if putting it, yes, but... It's more than just help. He's scared of going through it again. He wants... Protection. And, he's going to have almost mood swings. Sometimes, he's going to be clingy, sometimes, he'll be more distanced."

Peter nodded, "What do I do?"

"Be there for him. Talk to him, listen to him. Don't let him ignore things or shrug them off, but don't push too hard, don't crowd him. He'll lash out if you do that. Comfort him, and be absolutely sure to reassure him that it's not his fault, that he's not dirty or tainted, and that don't love him any less." She ordered, smiling softly, kindly. She shook Peter's hand made her way to her office.

"Alright, Neal. Elizabeth's got dinner waiting." Peter said to him. Neal stood and glued himself to Peter's side. Peter put a hand on his shoulder and put his lips to Neal's hair.

Peter didn't know if he was talking to Neal or himself, but he said, "It's going to be okay."


End file.
